As a young mother of two lovely little girls, who were usually quiet and subdued (compared to 3 year old boys) I always judged other mothers who couldn't control their little boys. I just couldn't understand how it was possible for a little 3 year old, packaged in a compact little body, to make so much noise and destruction! I wondered at why "that mother can't control her own child!" Now, as a mother of a boy, I have really had to repent of my judgemental thoughts. I never knew that being a mother to a boy could be so wonderfully crazy! Lee has accused me of being shamelessly boy crazy and I must admit that I am.
Cooper came home from a day full of exploring, playing, scooter riding, playground rousing, and sandbox digging. He was completely covered from head to toe with dirt and grime. He tripped and fell along the way home and as he sat in my arms, blubbering, his little tears actually left clean streaks down his dirty, nutella crusted face. I just held him close and enjoyed the scent of dirty little boy mixed with innocence as he sat in my lap, clinging to me for comfort and the magic healing that comes from mommy's kisses. How precious these days are! How precious and few they are. I feel as though they are slipping through my fingers faster than a breeze that kisses your cheeks as it slips quietly along.
I took Cooper to his new school today to pay the enrollment fees for next year. I can't believe he's going off to preschool in a few months! He's so excited to be a big boy, like Ally and Eve. He is proud of his Chinese school, proud to speak Chinese and have so many xiao pengyou (small friends).
He met his teacher today. I watched as he couldn't decided whether to play shy and coy, or to demonstrate his Chinese capabilities to his new teacher. Decision hung in the balance as he considered whether being shy would gain him more attention and adoration than showing his teacher how smart he was. Finally, his need to show off (it runs in the family) won out. I enjoyed watching his shyness give way to confidence as he met his new teacher.
Each night as I tuck him in he tells me about his day. If I don't ask him the correct questions, he prompts me, saying "You have to say 'What was fun today?' mom". We go through the day, detail by detail so he can tell me what his favorite parts were. He then directs me in the proper order of kisses to bestow. First he asks for nose kisses, which are usually followed my eye kisses (of course, butterfly kisses). We used to end up with 'mouth kisses' as he puts it, but a few months later, he added one to the list. As my hair brushed across his cheek he decided that hair kisses were equally important to the order of things. Just as I thought there were no more kinds of kisses to bestow, he asked for 'finger kisses', which are face tickles. Then finally, we can end the ritual and head into the deepest slumber that a 3 year old boy needs to start a day fresh and full of exploring, playing, scooter riding, playground rousing, and sandbox digging.
For my sister-in-law, who assured me that no one would love me like my son, I thank you for helping calm my pregnant fears 4 years ago, when I said: "What will I do with a boy? How will I ever love a boy like I do my girls?" Truly, there is no love like that shared between a boy and his mom. I am sure I will read this post at some later time, when Cooper has me at my wits end, and he will survive another day for no other reason than the way he looks at me and says "Mommy, I love you."
